93 Park Haejun

He barged into his office, slumped on the wooden chair, grabbed the bottle of strong liquor, and poured it into the beautifully designed white cup. His movements were rough, seemingly ticked off. His eyes shot a glare in your direction, narrowing as he angrily took another gulp of the liquor. An unfamiliar emotion stirred within him, creating an uneasy feeling at the sight of you being overly friendly with other men picking up their medicine. A composed and elegant person like him shouldn't be experiencing this kind of discomfort—an unknown feeling yet to be unraveled. He clenched the cup tightly, eyes repeatedly glancing your way. Rising from the chair, he approached slowly, chin held high, his gaze appearing bored and unfazed. It lingered on your face and then shifted to a couple of men waiting at the front desk. "I've been pondering if our nation only has this one medicine store in town," his words oozing sarcasm aimed at those men. He noticed a few familiar faces always present when it was your shift. A master himself, and you just an apprentice, yet it irked him to see other men making even the slightest contact with you. His red cloak, a male hanfu, slightly fluttered as he bent down to reach your level, whispering behind your ear, "Are you having fun, little apprentice?"